


Triptych 1

by xtricks



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Chromatic Character, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:51:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtricks/pseuds/xtricks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First in a planned series of three, but I never finished the third.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Triptych 1

**Author's Note:**

> First in a planned series of three, but I never finished the third.

Toshiko had an active imagination. And she wasn't blind. Owen might admire the way that Martha handled a stethoscope and dug into a dead weevil but he was a wanker (Toshiko watched him in the shower, sometimes) and he admired the way she filled out her scrubs just as much. Toshiko watched the way he watched Martha and monitored the way porn searches shifted to _'sexy black beauties'_ and then she went home early.

Toshiko took a shower. Lay naked on her bed and stared at the ceiling, the familiar crack that ran from the corner like a break in the world. She wondered what it would be like to have a mirror up there. She'd be able to see herself; manicured toes (her private luxury), childless belly, nipples that had had no kisses since Mary (Toshiko liked to think of Mary drifting back to her as ions and photons, as magnetic haiku signals; grass and trees and children reaching back to her because Toshiko still loved Mary, still missed her). If she had a mirror in her ceiling and Owen in her bed, Tosh could watch him.

She could see the way his spine, bony and sharp, shifted as he lay against her. She could watch those surgeon's hands touch her thighs and the impatient grin on his mouth. He'd want to fuck her and probably wouldn't spend any more time getting her ready than he had to. It was Owen.

Toshiko smoothed her fingers up the heat of her inner thigh and over the drift of dark hair at her crotch (she didn't shave, why should she? Mary had laughed and tugged on her hair with her teeth) then pushed her fingers along the folds of her labia. She wasn't quite ready but that was ... that was Owen.

His hand. She was wet and ready enough and Toshiko pulled her knees up, spread them wide, showing off her pussy to the mirror in her mind, to Owen who wanted her cunt.

Toshiko dragged her fingers up spreading them, opening herself, brushing over her clit, dragging in a sharp breath when she did. The air on the wet lips of her pussy was cold and a shuddering clench roiled her belly. Tosh pushed her hips up, canting to the fingers, to Owen's touch, his look (trying to look gentle but, really, smug and horny and greedy).

"Fuck me," Tosh groaned, words stark in the silence. "Fuck me."

Owen would oblige. Tosh pushed two fingers into herself, a little roughly, gasping, jerking up to the feel of being stretched open too fast. The ache made her buck again, squeeze her eyes shut (Owen looking down on her), push deeper.

"S'okay," she whispered, shivering. "Just ... go on."

(Owen would distract her, fingers on her nipples so he could work in deeper) Tosh scraped a thumbnail across one of her nipples, the flesh tight, sensitized, and she whimpered. Pushed her fingers deeper and _twisted._

"Oh, _oh_ ," She bucked up, fucking herself on her hand, wetter now, readier now, fingers sliding easily, thumb hard against her clit. Rhythmic, Tosh pushed her hips up, rocking, sweat gathering along her back, behind her knees and in the mirror Owen's skinny back and scrawny ass pumped and Tosh's thighs were wide around him.

She was ready and Owen told her to come. Told her to come (he'd still be impatient, breath on her neck, hauling her hips up to his cock), and Tosh --

\-- would come. She'd come, orgasm rolling her up and over, Owen's cock grasped tight in the flutters of her pussy. She could see it in the mirror, eyes wide, (eyes tight closed), and Owen would come. She was on the pill, she could feel the flood of him, keep a little bit for herself, inside. Safe.

Her pussy would ache a little, (the shape of Owen's cock as if it were still inside her) and Toshiko would want him to stay and never ask and, in the mirror, Owen would get dressed and the door would open and close and Toshiko would be alone.

Toshiko opened her eyes, hand still curled in the wet brush of her pubic hair. There was no mirror on the ceiling.


End file.
